


The Five Stages of Being Zorro’s Father

by NotesFromSarah



Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Disney's Zorro, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Secrets, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Historical, Introspection, Missing Scenes, Mystery, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotesFromSarah/pseuds/NotesFromSarah
Summary: Disney’s Zorro. The boy Alejandro sent to Spain was not the man who returned to California. As he learns to relate to his son again Alejandro has to shed the ideas of who he wants Diego to be and come to accept him as he really is. Set during Season 1. Canon compliant.
Relationships: Alejandro de la Vega & Diego de la Vega
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. DENIAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, Episodes 1–3 – Presenting Señor Zorro/Zorro’s Secret Passage/Zorro Rides to the Mission

Alejandro paced around the _sala_ , his son was supposed to be here any time now and his impatience was gnawing a hole in his concentration. He had a hundred things he could be doing now, _should_ be doing now, but all he could think about was seeing his son again for the first time in more than three years. Diego had been little more than a boy when he sent him to university all those years ago. The intervening years had been lonely and Alejandro met the prospect of having his son back with anticipation – and anxiety. What would he be like now after living so far away for so long? Would he still be the cheerful, active boy that he was as a teenager? Would he be more sophisticated and worldly after living in such a large, metropolitan city for so long? What stories would he have to tell? His letters, while detailed and warm, told only a small fraction of his life. Alejandro was anxious to hear all of it.

And, there was another factor. Monastario. That man had become a menace to Los Angeles and Alejandro wanted to be rid of him, for good. He would have acted earlier, much earlier, if he had thought he could have any real effect. However, without his son he was just another meddling old man. He was no longer in his prime and any action he could take would be struck down quickly by Monastario and his thugs. He hoped beyond hope that his son would return to the pueblo with all the fire and vinegar of a young man ready to wage war on corruption and complacency. That sort of youthful energy was just what was needed to rouse the dons from their timid stupor! He could almost see it now, Diego’s fervor and passion rallying the masses against Monastario’s treason. Monastario and his cronies being driven out of town at the point of musket and sword. Oh! What a glorious day that would be.

Striding over to the window he peered out through the lace curtains. He wasn’t entirely sure but he thought he heard hooves and possibly the wheels of a carriage. He didn’t see anything immediately through the window, but it wasn’t situated in the best place to see out anyway. Tossing the curtain back into place he pulled open the door to get a better look, just as the door to the courtyard opened to reveal a tall man with a bright smile. The only person he’d wanted to see for the last three years. His very own son.

* * *

“Diego how can you say such things! We must act!” Alejandro could barely contain himself, his agitation was simmering to the boiling point. They had been playing chess, but the battle had left the board and spilled over into words. Again.

Diego held up his hands placatingly. “Father, we’ve been over this, I think it is exactly the wrong course of action to attempt to stand against Monastario.”

“So we are to stand idly by as that tyrant uses our complicity to put a stranglehold on the entire pueblo? Soon enough we will have to ask his permission just to go to town. The man is out of control. You were supposed to come back here to help me.”

Diego leaned back in his seat, withdrawing as much as he could without actually leaving. “I appreciate your concern Father, I really do, but it seems that our hands are tied. I think we just need to have some patience.”

“Patience?” Alejandro attempted to put as much disdain as he could into the word. “There is no time for patience, only action. The longer we wait the more dangerous he gets. The time for action is now.”

Diego steepled his fingertips together and looked at him shrewdly, Alejandro thought, before saying “I have full faith that the governor will soon be made aware of our situation here and will swiftly act to rectify it. There is nothing more we can do.”

“Nothing more? Am I hearing this correctly? Nothing more-”

“Please, Father,” Diego cut in, “I’m afraid I am still quite tired from my journey. Please excuse me while I go lie down.”

Alejandro felt his anger bubble over. Just as he was about to give vent to it he caught his son’s eye. There was something there that dissipated his irritation. Diego did look tired. He had only been home a few days, perhaps Alejandro was expecting too much from him too soon. “Of course, rest up as much as you need to. I keep forgetting that you are still so newly arrived from an arduous journey.”

Diego rose with a nod and gestured to the chessboard between them. “Thank you Father, we can continue our match later. With your permission.”

Alejandro watched after him as he left the _sala_. Picking up one of the pawns he toyed with it thoughtfully for a moment before settling it into the box where they stored the pieces. Of course it was a big adjustment shifting from the orderly and proceduralized world of Madrid. Diego wanted to avail himself of systems that simply didn’t function in Los Angeles, or honestly most places in California. Once he had a few more run-in’s with Monastario he was sure to change his mind. Alejandro was certain of that. He simply could never believe that his son, his own flesh and blood, would ever back down in the face of injustice. No, he wouldn’t accept that.

 _But_ , the nagging thought pricked at the back of his mind, _what if he really has changed, and instead of a firebrand who will inspire the people you now have a milquetoast wimp who will hide alongside the other cowards?_ Collecting the other chess pieces Alejandro tried to shake the thought from his head. If Diego was in actuality a useless priss it would have been far better for him to stay in Spain. _I don’t mean that_ , Alejandro mentally chided himself, _I am actually very happy to have him back home. These last three years have been miserable without him and already I find his companionship the highlight of my day._

Tossing the last piece into the box he closed the lid with a snap. Besides, what did it matter anyway. He had complete faith that Diego would rest up and over the next few days he would show himself to be the de la Vega that Alejandro knew he truly was.

* * *

Alejandro strode into the _sala_ brimming with energy. After what seemed like another hopeless turn of events with the arrest of Don Nacho Torres it finally appeared that luck was no longer on the side of the oppressor. “Did you hear about this new _bandido_ , Zorro? He has been seen in the area several times now, even at the mission, and he seems to have a calling from heaven to spoil Monastario’s plans and save our friend Don Nacho.” Alejandro rubbed his hands together with some delight.

Diego looked up from his book, seemingly disinterested. “You seem happy Father.”

“Of course I’m happy. At last there is someone in Los Angeles who is willing to do what must be done.” Alejandro sat down across from Diego prompting his son to lay his book on the table turning his full attention to his father. “This _bandido_ dares to do what we cannot. If only I were twenty years younger, I would join him immediately.”

Diego gave him an expression of surprise. “Certainly you would not throw away everything to join some outlaw on a crusade against Monastario? Where is the sense in that?”

“Diego, some things are worth risking everything for, and in this moment the freedom of Los Angeles is most certainly at stake.”

His son leaned back against the cushions of the chair with almost a gleam in his eye. “And what if this Zorro does not care for the freedom of Los Angeles, but merely has some perverse delight in tormenting Monastario? Perhaps it is some game based on a private quarrel between them and Don Nacho is just an unwilling pawn? Will you wish yourself twenty years younger when the Fox turns his attention to the chickens?”

Alejandro stood up, instantly agitated. “Diego, Zorro has been seen several times now and each time he acted only to foil the plans of Monastario. He has not been accused of any other banditry, no robbing of stagecoaches or attacks against travelers. No, I think Los Angeles has finally reached a breaking point and some brave young man stepped up to the challenge. I only wish I knew who he was.”

Diego looked at him thoughtfully. “Tell me Father, what would you do if you did know?”

“I would help him of course!” Alejandro paced the room, he wasn’t sure why exactly his son was hesitant to call a spade a spade. Monastario was bad, Zorro was against Monastario, so Zorro must be good. It was as simple as that. No other discussion was needed. “I would find a way to cooperate our efforts so that all of us landowners could band together and fight Monastario for the good of everyone in Los Angeles. It would be a great thing. It is a pity indeed that I do not know his true identity.”

“Well, if Monastario has his way he will expose Zorro for all to see, I suppose you will know his identity then.”

Alejandro sighed. “I wish you would not be so obtuse. Zorro may very well be the only one standing between Los Angeles and tyranny.”

Diego glanced at his father with a small smile. “That’s quite a lot to expect from one man, _bandido_ or not.”

“It is the least we should expect from any true Californian,” said Alejandro, “sometimes I wish you would show half as much determination and spirit as Zorro does. If you did, Monastario wouldn’t stand a chance against us.”

“Father, really,” said Diego, exasperated. “I-” he stopped himself then said with a neutral look “Father, if you will permit me I think I’ll go read outside for a bit, it is such a pleasant day.” Rising, Diego headed for the door.

“Diego, your book.” Alejandro picked up the volume from the table perplexed by his son’s sudden shift in mood. For a moment there Diego had almost argued with him. While he didn’t really enjoy arguing with his son, he would prefer it if his son wanted to fight him than withdraw from him altogether.

His son turned back with a slightly embarrassed smile and tapped the side of his head indicating that he had forgotten it. “Of course, it would be a lot easier to read if I had my book with me.” Accepting the book from Alejandro the young man walked out the door.

Alejandro puzzled for a moment. Something felt off about this entire conversation. Did his son really think this Zorro character was no good, or had he been teasing him in some small way. Diego’s mother, Isabela, used to do things like that all the time so the boy came by it honestly. Still, if he was playing, why? And why did his son always draw away from any confrontation? Why wouldn’t he fight for, well, anything? It was all almost too much. Alejandro frowned. No, he was probably misreading the situation. And perhaps he had been unfair to compare his son to this mysterious outlaw, he had just been hoping to prick him a little, to provoke some reaction.

Alejandro looked towards the door to the patio, sometimes he felt like his son was a stranger to him. _Give him time_ , he almost heard his wife’s voice echo in his ear. She was right of course. Once he was more settled in Diego would come around and everything would be back to normal. Who knows, perhaps the appearance of this Zorro figure might actually inspire Diego behave more boldly himself. Alejandro didn’t know which thing it would be exactly, but soon enough Monastario would cross a line and Diego would wake up to the situation as it really was. He only had to be patient with his son, give him some more time.


	2. ANGER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, Episodes 5-7 – Zorro’s Romance/Zorro Saves a Friend/Monastario Sets a Trap

Alejandro could not believe his son! He really couldn’t. In the middle of all this trouble with Don Nacho, Diego had to go and insert himself in the most insensitive manner possible by attempting to woo Elena while her home was being raided by soldiers. How could he have raised such a boor? Diego’s mother would have been so disappointed right now, God rest her soul. He paced up and down in the _sala_ waiting for his son to appear. He wanted to have a few choice words with his offspring.

When Diego did finally appear Alejandro was fit to be tied. “There you are. Diego I want to have a few words with you.”

Diego seemed to hesitate, looking at his father in a calculating way. Seeming to accept the result of his calculation Diego leaned against the dining table and gave Alejandro a carefully neutral look. “What do you want, Father?”

“I want you to explain yourself. I have heard the most ludicrous things about your behavior of late and I demand a full account!”

Diego seemed to feign surprise. “Why, what on earth do you mean?”

“What do I mean? What do I mean?” Alejandro got louder with each repetition. “I mean I have heard about your behavior at the Torres’ _rancho_ and I would like you to give me one good reason for why you acted in such manner.” Alejandro was trying to keep his temper in check but his voice was brimming with irritation.

“Oh, you mean that,” said Diego, far too casually for Alejandro’s liking. “It was nothing really. Just a little distraction for Doña Luisa and Elena.”

“And you thought that was appropriate?” Alejandro was absolutely flabbergasted. He thought his son had a touch more decorum than that.

“Well, Elena didn’t seem to mind and Doña Luisa seemed to appreciate my presence when Monastario came to raid her hacienda,” Diego said innocently.

“Did she appreciate it as much when you made a fool of yourself? Your silly behavior did nothing to help her or her daughter in any way. Instead you ended up bound and gagged in the basement while Zorro, a real man, helped Don Nacho to evade capture.”

Diego stiffened a little which is exactly what Alejandro wanted. His words were pointed to prick at his son’s pride.

“Now Father, I’m not sure that’s entirely fair-” Diego started.

“Fair? Do you know what’s not fair? It’s not fair that Señora and Señorita Torres don’t have anyone to protect them from the likes of Monastario. That is not fair, my son. And when they most needed the protection of a man, what did you do? Played guitar? Got drunk in the cellar? No, it is not fair that when these women needed your help the most all you could provide were childish diversions.”

Alejandro wanted to say more, but it seemed that the point had been driven home. Diego looked properly ashamed of himself giving Alejandro hope that his message had gotten through.

Diego looked up at him, his face apologetic yet it held a hint of his own anger. “I’m sorry, Father, I did not think about my actions and I realize now that I should have behaved differently.” Straightening up from the table he gestured towards the door. “Is there anything else you would like to say to me? Or may I be excused?”

Alejandro felt like his son was just saying what he thought would get him out of trouble so he could leave. However, there didn’t seem to be much else to say at the moment and it would do Diego good to spend some time thinking over what had just been said.

Waving to the door, Alejandro said, “No, I have nothing more to say at this time, be about your day.”

Diego gave a curt nod and left the _sala_. Alejandro could see his son was angry at him. He supposed most young men disliked being scolded. Giving the scoldings wasn’t very much fun either. Alejandro hated scolding his son but there seemed to be no other way to get through to him. Closing his eyes and thinking of his wife for a moment Alejandro wished she was there to tell him what to do. Diego and she were the same in many ways and she had always known how to talk to him. Lately it seemed that all he and Diego ever did was quarrel.

Opening his eyes he looked over to the door his son had walked out of. “May the saints give me patience,” he said.

* * *

“Diego, I have called the other dons to come to the hacienda this evening for a meeting to decide what we will do about the plight of the Torres women. I’d like you to attend.” Alejandro had been simmering about the situation all day. He was beyond outraged that Monastario would dare to arrest Luisa and Elena Torres unless Don Nacho turned himself in. It was the most vile thing he could imagine. Two gentle, innocent, Spanish ladies being subjected to such humiliation. He imagined what he would have done if his own wife would have been arrested like a common criminal. He wished Monastario was in front of him right now, he would teach that young tyrant a lesson or two!

Now he was pacing on the patio while Diego remained seated, tranquilly strumming on the guitar.

“I agree that something must be done and I think meeting with the dons could be productive, I just think that we should be cautious.” His son was calm as he moved his fingers through several chord combinations. “Monastario had to know that arresting Doña Luisa and Elena would spark a reaction, it’s exactly what he wants.”

Diego’s calm only agitated Alejandro further. “What difference does it make? Those women need help now!”

“Father, I understand your distress,” said Diego as he glanced up from his playing. “I too am very concerned for the ladies, I just don’t see how we will be of any use to them if we are arrested or killed.”

“And what exactly do you propose we do? You say you are in favor of the meeting with the other dons, but at the same time you don’t want to take any action to free them. You have already tried to negotiate for their release to no avail, this is now our only option.” Alejandro was exasperated that Diego didn’t seem to understand the reality of the situation.

Diego gently picked at the guitar strings. “What I propose is that the dons come up with a specific list of demands and present it to Monastario with a united front. Monastario is greedy and avaricious, but he doesn’t want full opposition from the landowners. By uniting on this matter I think we can force Monastario’s hand without raising our own in violence.”

“I think you are giving Monastario entirely too much credit. He is not a man who can be reasoned with on this or any other matter. If I didn’t know better I would think you are advising caution because you are afraid to do what is necessary.” Alejandro put as much vehemence into his this last sentence as he could. He wanted to provoke Diego into action, goad him from his idleness.

Diego stopped plucking at the guitar and put the instrument aside altogether. “Father,” he said serenely as if refusing to be provoked, “I thought you said you wanted to free the Torres women.”

“I do,” started Alejandro, “and to do so we must-”

Diego held up a hand, quieting Alejandro so he could continue. “Do you not agree that Monastario has superior numbers and firepower at his disposal in the _cuartel_?”

“Of course he does, Diego, I’m not so stupid as you seem to think.” Diego’s line of rhetoric was beginning to make Alejandro angry for an entirely new reason.

Before he could continue Diego interjected again. “And don’t you think that Monastario wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you and every other don who dared stand against him? And when you are shot, who will help the Torres women then?”

“Enough, Diego! You reason to no end. If we stand against Monastario we might succeed, or we might not. But if we do nothing then we are only assured failure. Small comfort it would be to Doña Luisa that the men of the pueblo considered doing something to protect her and her daughter, but decided against it because it might have cost them a little trouble. If you haven’t forgotten, those women are living in a dirty public cell with no privacy or comfort. Every hour that passes with them in captivity is a black mark against the honor of every man who has ever called Don Nacho a friend.” Alejandro’s anger punctuated every word. “Now, will you be at the meeting with the other dons tonight? Will you stand by me as we discuss our plans?” Alejandro watched his son’s face closely, looking for any trace of hope.

Diego took in a breath and closed his eyes for the briefest moment, seemingly centering himself. Opening his eyes he nodded. “Yes, I will be at the meeting tonight, I will stand by you in this.”

* * *

Alejandro was angry and Diego was angry but neither of them had time to talk about it. Alejandro was leaving with the other dons to attack the _cuartel_ and free the Torres women. He couldn’t believe he and the other dons were leaving the hacienda without his son among them. He never knew he could be so angry at his son – or so disappointed. What was worse was that he had seen in Diego the fire he was looking for. His son wasn’t a spineless coward who was hiding from the prospect of danger or conflict. Diego had almost joined them, but something was holding him back. That both confused and angered Alejandro as well. What was up with his son, and why didn’t Diego feel he could confide in him? What was it that was keeping Diego from joining him in the attack?

Mounting his horse he and the other dons began their ride to the pueblo. All of them knew that this was one of the most important nights of their lives. What they accomplished or failed to accomplish here would determine the future of Los Angeles for some time. Monastario had terrorized them long enough.

Still, his thoughts were with Diego. He knew very well that what he was doing was dangerous, potentially fatal. A small part of him regretted the harsh words he had spoken to his son. Perhaps it had been a bit extreme to say “I almost felt what it is like for a father to be proud of his son.” Another part of him felt Diego had deserved it. Alejandro was a man used to seeing the world in black and white and anyone who would not take action when action was needed was a coward or worse. But, Diego didn’t fit neatly in his categories anymore. It was clear that Diego felt strongly about this issue, that he wanted to help the Torres women and that he even agreed with the _cuartel_ attack in principal. But if he felt so strongly then why would he back down at the last minute? Alejandro felt his ire mix with bewilderment. The longer his son was home the less Alejandro knew what was going on in his head. If he made it through the night in one piece he promised himself that he would have a conversation with Diego and get to the heart of the matter.

Glancing behind one last time, just in case Diego had decided to join them at the last minute, Alejandro scanned the empty road. The dark was unbroken and there was no eleventh hour change of heart. Spurring his horse ahead he caught up with the other dons. They exchanged grim looks, no words passing between them as they rode towards their ultimate end.


	3. BARGAINING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, Episode 17 – Sweet Face of Danger

Maybe, just maybe if Diego met a girl he could really fall for that would transform him into the man Alejandro knew he could be. If he had some responsibilities, a wife and some children, he would really realize how important it was for him to act in order to provide for and protect them. Alejandro remembered himself in his younger days when he had first wed. It had been a sobering reality that married life was one of intense responsibility. He could no longer think only of himself and what he wanted, he had to include his wife Isabela now, and together they had to make decisions for their son and their household. It had been a difficult adjustment at first, but it was just the motivation he had needed to start taking his responsibilities seriously. He knew it would be the same for Diego.

Alejandro was riding into the outskirts of the pueblo, on his way to meet his friend Don Francisco Montez. Don Francisco was supposed to be meeting his daughter on the stage and Alejandro had invited them to his hacienda to welcome her back to Los Angeles. Of course it had crossed his mind that if this daughter seemed suitable, there might be a possibility of arranging a match between her and Diego. He didn’t want to bank on it yet, but his hopes were high. Riding past the church Alejandro crossed himself and said a silent prayer that this girl would be a good match for Diego, and that Diego would fall for her. Maybe it was too much to ask.

Coming to the town square Alejandro dismounted in front of the tavern and tied his horse to the hitching post outside.

“Alejandro, _buenos días_!”

Alejandro turned to see who had hailed him. He saw another one of the landowners, Don Cornelio Esperon, striding towards him across the plaza.

Alejandro hastened to meet him. " _Buenos días,_ Cornelio, it is good to see you.” Reaching him they shook hands. “And what brings you to town today? Are you hoping to meet the coach from San Pedro as well?”

“Right you are, Alejandro. I am hoping for some letters that are long overdue, and of course some news about goings on in the rest of the world.” Don Cornelio clapped Alejandro on the shoulder. “And what are you hoping will arrive on the stagecoach?”

“I am actually here to meet Don Francisco. His daughter Magdalena will be arriving today and I have invited them both back to my hacienda to welcome them back to the pueblo.”

“Magdalena Montez? She is coming from Mexico City, is she not?”

Alejandro frowned a little. “Yes, I believe she is. I hear she is an accomplished and beautiful woman.”

“And I suppose you are thinking she might be a good match for your accomplished and beautiful son?” Don Cornelio smiled knowingly. “I see what you are doing Alejandro.”

It was hardly a secret that every one of the dons worked hard to find suitable partners for their grown children, but Alejandro didn’t like to be called out on it all the same. He was trying to be discrete after all. “Well I can’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. Don Francisco is an old friend of mine and it would make me very happy to join our families. He has told me many things about his daughter and I believe she would be a good match for my son.”

Don Cornelio cocked an eyebrow. “I know Don Francisco is your friend, but are you sure this daughter of his really will be a good match for Diego? I must admit I have heard some things about her even on my most recent business trip to Mexico City and I was not very impressed with her reputation.”

This time Alejandro frowned properly, he had not heard any such rumors himself. “What do you mean ‘her reputation?’” Alejandro didn’t want to be spreading gossip, but, well, he wanted to know if there were scandalous rumors following this young woman. “Do you have any first hand knowledge of any untoward goings on?”

“Well, not exactly,” said Don Cornelio, “but I have heard enough to give me pause. It seems that Señorita Montez has a habit of currying the affections of men who are, how shall I put it, not of the highest social quality.”

Alejandro crossed his arms. “What exactly are you trying to say, Cornelio? I do not like vague hints that let the imagination run wild. If you have something specific to say I would like to hear it.”

Don Cornelio looked as if he were thinking of a way to word something carefully. “While I have not heard of any specific scandal concerning the young lady, it was told to me more than once that she is not always so diligent to ensure she has a proper chaperone and as I just said, she often accepts the favors of men who are not exactly above reproach.”

Alejandro pursed his lips. “Well, it hardly sounds like her reputation is in danger, and it is likely that these rumors you heard are the work of jealous gossips and not reflective of the girl’s character.”

Don Cornelio held up his hands placatingly. “I do not mean to suggest anything about your friend’s daughter, I only wanted you to know what I had heard in Mexico City before you rushed to betroth her to your son. Once you meet her you will be able to make your own judgments, and if all goes well I expect to be celebrating your son’s marriage in no time.”

Alejandro relaxed his posture and smiled. “Of course. I know you meant well. Now, if you will excuse me I need to see if I can find Francisco.”

Cornelio clapped him on the shoulder again and the two men parted ways. Alejandro went into the tavern to look for his friend. Mentally he was turning over what Don Cornelio had said. He didn’t want to even consider it. Not only was Don Francisco his friend, but it would be most unsuitable for Diego to be with a woman who had a mark on her reputation. Don Francisco had told him many things about Magdalena; she was intelligent, playful, educated in all the necessary arts of a Spanish lady, she came from a good family, what more could a person want. Silently he begged heaven that Magdalena would be an answer to his prayers.

Spotting his friend across the tavern, Alejandro hastened to greet him.

* * *

Climbing the stairs from the patio Alejandro thought that things had gone quite well overall. While Diego had been a little resistant to meet Magdalena at first, he really seemed to have warmed up to her. Alejandro was beginning to think that after the party tonight an engagement announcement might be in order. Then, in a year or so Diego’s own children would be born and his son would be thinking about more important things than music and poetry.

Reaching Diego’s door he knocked, mentally wagering whether it would be Diego or Bernardo answering. At times those two seemed attached at the hip, almost inseparable. While Bernardo was Diego’s manservant there seemed to be a genuine friendship between them. There was something more than that though, Alejandro wasn’t a fool, he saw the glances and heard the conspiratorial whispers. Whispers that by all rights Bernardo shouldn’t be able to even hear. It perplexed him to no end trying to figure out what it was that Diego was hiding from him.

Diego opened the door and smiled upon seeing him. Stepping back he allowed Alejandro to enter the room. “Do you need something, Father?”

Walking into the room, Alejandro glanced at the portrait of his wife and son that hung on the wall before looking at Diego. “I wanted to ask you about your drive with Magdalena. Did you find her company not as unbearable as you feared?”

Diego gave a small smile and threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I admit, you were right and I was foolish to jump to conclusions about her.”

Alejandro smiled. It was a relief to hear his son admit that and it gave him hope. “I’m glad to hear it Diego, I really am. And I hope you will find her every bit as engaging tonight at our fiesta.”

“Still thinking about those grandchildren, eh?” Diego’s voice was teasing.

“Diego, please, I am only thinking of what’s best for you,” Alejandro said, exasperated. Why did his son have to needle him so?

Diego put a hand to his mouth, apparently attempting to hide a smile. “I know you are, Father and I appreciate all the work you do on my behalf.”

Alejandro couldn’t tell if he was being teased or not, but he had an inclination that it was the former. “I just wish you would take some initiative in this area yourself.”

“But Father,” said Diego with a twinkle in his eye, “why should I do all the hard work if you will do it for me?”

Alejandro looked to the heavens for patience, well actually the ceiling, but the intent was there. Some days his son really could be too much! “Diego why must you test me? One day I hope you have as much trouble with your own son.”

“I’m sorry Father, I know you have high hopes for me.” Diego at least _tried_ to sound apologetic.

Alejandro just shook his head, his exasperation vanishing. Heading to the door he paused at the threshold. “Our guests will be arriving soon, when you are ready please come down to greet them with me.”

“I will, Father.”

* * *

“I don’t understand, Diego, what happened between you two last night?” Alejandro was beyond perplexed now, more like absolutely consternated. During the party everything had seemed fine, beyond fine even. Alejandro had fully expected an engagement between Diego and Magdalena to follow, but now his son was telling him that there was nothing between them and that Magdalena had decided to leave for Mexico City. There was no sense to it!

Diego was sitting on the patio under the shade of the tree. He appeared calm and vaguely disinterested. “I think it’s clear that nothing happened, Father. Magdalena and myself,” Diego paused for a moment, “it seems that we just were not meant to be.”

“What are you talking about? The two of you were getting on so well. What did you say to her that would drive her all the way back to Mexico City?” What was worse than this news about Diego and Magdalena was the fact that his son didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it.

“Well I don’t think she’s returning to Mexico City because of anything I said.”

Something about Diego’s tone told Alejandro that wasn’t the whole truth. “Then why would she leave so suddenly after the two of you got on so well last night?”

“Father, not everything is as it seems, and while it seemed that we were getting on well, in reality there was nothing there. No spark if you will.” Diego was leaning back in his chair appearing the picture of calm.

Alejandro scrutinized his son closely. Was it possible that there really was no spark? He felt like Diego was lying to him. Honestly he had felt like that often since Diego had returned from Spain. “Have I pushed you too hard? Am I putting too much pressure on you, is that why you lost interest in her?”

Diego seemed a little surprised at the suggestion. “Of course not, Father. I promise you that there is nothing you could have said or done to sway my feelings about Magdalena – one way or another. Sometimes fate just has other plans for us.”

Alejandro was not swayed by this excuse. He honestly didn’t know what to do about his son anymore. All he wanted was for Diego to follow in his footsteps and become a settled, responsible member of society with something of value to contribute. “Tell me then, how can I help you? I only want you to find a nice girl with whom you can be happy. I want to see you settle down, add to the family and have a fulfilling life.”

Diego gave him a small smile free of teasing or lies. “I want those things to, Father, very, very much.” Glancing at the ground he seemed to consider something for a moment before looking back at Alejandro. “However, I also know it is dangerous to rush fate, so perhaps it will be better if the two of us do not meddle in her designs.”

“Sometimes, my son, fate needs all the help she can get.”


	4. DEPRESSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, Episodes 19, 23 – Death Stacks the Deck/Secret of the Sierra

Alejandro had given up hope. After  Ramón’s father had died the boy had been reckless and foolish, gambling with his inheritance and losing it to a stranger. That, in and of itself, was bad enough. Losing a decent _rancho_ and an upstanding family was certainly a blow to the community as a whole. What was worse was how the new owners were treating the land itself. It hadn’t happened all at once, but one by one the _rancheros_ had found that the water source that originated on that _rancho_ and flowed throughout the area was becoming polluted. What had previously been an inconvenience was quickly becoming a threat. Alejandro had lost half a dozen cattle in the last three weeks and if this wasn’t stopped he would lose many more.

He’d tried appealing to the new landowner but had no luck. It seemed that this tanner was more interested in his own profits than the well being of the community. The entire situation seemed hopeless.

Sitting in the library he was attempting to compose a persuasive letter to the _magistrado_ even though he knew it would do little good. The _magistrado_ was as corrupt as they came but he had precious few other options. Three separate drafts sat crumpled on the desk as he attempted a fourth. A sharp rap on the door interrupted him.

“Enter,” he called out.

Diego came into the library. “Am I bothering you, Father?”

Alejandro sighed as he laid down his pen. “No, I am getting nowhere with this letter to the _magistrado_. Do you need something?”

“I just spoke with Benito, he told me that another one of the cattle has sickened from the water.” Diego glanced at the letter Alejandro had before him. “Attempting to convince the _magistrado_ that the tannery is poisoning the water?”

Alejandro looked up at his son, removing his spectacles. “It is the only thing I can think of, if you have any other ideas I’d love to hear them.”

Diego perched on the edge of the desk. “No, I think it’s a good idea. I also think that perhaps the landowner himself, this Señor Urista, might also be persuaded if all of the landowners affected by his tannery came together as a group to protest against his treatment of the water.”

Alejandro patted his son’s knee. “Well, that sounds like a nice idea, I just doubt that it will give us any results.”

“There’s no harm in trying,” said Diego. “What’s more, I will speak to  Ramón and see if we can get him to testify that the water from the spring has always belonged to everyone.”

Alejandro leaned back in his chair. “While these are all very good suggestions I don’t think they’ll have the desired result. It seems that corruption runs deep in Los Angeles and I fear our _magistrado_ won’t find any reason to support our cause.”

“You sound hopeless, Father. Surely you haven’t given up?” Diego was watching him thoughtfully.

Alejandro sighed again. “If we cannot appeal to the decency of our new neighbor, or the sensibility of the _magistrado_ we are out of options. I don’t like to think about it but it seems we have no choice in the matter.”

Alejandro looked at his son, considering him carefully. Diego was always so optimistic, so certain that he could make things work the right way, the legal way. No matter how many corrupt _comandantes_ , or greedy administrators came to Los Angeles Diego always tried to make things work the way they were supposed to. He never lost faith in the systems or the people. It was one quality of Diego’s that Alejandro secretly admired.

As for himself, he had no more faith to give to systems. After so many years of disappointing leadership in Los Angeles Alejandro had very little hope for the governance of his town, instead he invested his hope in his family and the people of the community. However, at times likes these when men like  Ramón let down the community he found it very hard to have faith in anyone at all.

Diego picked up one of the crumpled drafts to read over, gently smoothing the paper against his knee. As he read through the letter he would periodically nod or shake his head and at moments attempt to suppress a grin.

Looking at his son Alejandro considered his own feelings about Diego. He had been disappointed in his son a lot since he had returned from Spain. Every time Alejandro expected Diego to act a certain way – he didn’t. It had been slow work at first, but Alejandro was beginning to be at peace with the Diego he knew now. The calm, scholarly gentleman was perhaps not the image of Diego he had so often imagined during the last three years, but many men did far worse when it came to sons.

And yet...there were still so many questions that didn’t have answers and a sneaking suspicion that was clawing at the dark recesses of Alejandro’s mind.

* * *

“Diego, I will be going to inspect some new livestock I intend to purchase and I’d like it if you’d drive out with me.” Alejandro had been trying any way he could think of to get his son more involved in the running of the _rancho_. Most of the time Diego complied without complaint and even seemed to enjoy the process. But then, on occasion, Diego gave every excuse in the book as to why he couldn’t or shouldn’t do this or that. It was a gamble really. Alejandro was mentally prepared to argue with his son about this, yet at the same time he was a little exhausted by the prospect. Diego went from hot to cold at a moment’s notice and it was beginning to wear on Alejandro.

Diego looked up from his bed where he had been sitting and reading. “Certainly, Father. Where are we driving to?”

So today Diego was being compliant. Alejandro let out a silent sigh of relief. “We’ll be going to the _Rancho_ Martinez, Don Miguel recently brought some cattle from Mexico City and he promises they’re quite good.” Pausing, he remembered Diego had been puzzling over the mystery of the gold pieces the day before. “By the way, what ever happened with those gold nuggets you had yesterday? Did you ever discover their origin?”

“Oh yes,” said Diego, “I found that Señorita Montoya had gotten them from an Indian like she said, and the Indian got them through trade with a ship’s captain a number of years ago. It seems as though there is still no gold to be had in California.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” said Alejandro, “at least that is one less thing for Los Angeles to worry about.” Checking the time on the clock that hung by Diego’s fireplace Alejandro motioned to his son. “I told Don Miguel that we would be coming in about half an hour, it would be best if we left soon.”

Closing his book and rising Diego followed his father out of the room.

* * *

The _Rancho_ Martinez did indeed have a fine selection of cattle and Alejandro was pleased with some of the offerings. He made sure to point out exactly what he looked for when introducing new cattle into the herd and discussed the finer points of the various breeds with Diego. For his part, Diego seemed to be listening but Alejandro wasn’t sure he was fully engaged. His son seemed to be preoccupied like he so often was. What was on his mind so often? And how much did it have to do with the _magistrado_ and his cronies?

Sitting in Don Miguel’s _sala,_ Alejandro signed the papers to finalize the sale. Putting aside his pen he handed the contract to Don Miguel. “These are some wonderful cattle you have, Miguel, they will make my herd quite strong.”

“ _Bueno_ , _bueno_ ,” said Don Miguel, slapping Alejandro on the shoulder. “Come, now that we are finished with our business I want to show you the new racehorse I bought. She came all the way from Mexico City. She will make our next race more competitive, I have a desire to see her go against your Princesa.”

“Hah!” Alejandro said playfully, “There isn’t a horse in all of New Spain that can go against Princesa in a race. Still, I’d like to see this animal.” Rising, he, Diego and Don Miguel made their way to the stables.

Leading Alejandro and Diego to the farthest stall, Don Miguel showed them a magnificent black mare. A true racehorse from tip to tail.

Diego reached out to pat the horse’s muzzle. “She’s beautiful, Don Miguel. I bet she’s fantastic to ride.” His voice was filled with admiration and his eyes swept lovingly over the mare’s clean lines.

“Her name is Noche Estrellada,” said Don Miguel, “would you like to ride her?”

Diego hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“Go on, Diego,” Alejandro prompted, “see how well she rides.”

Diego smiled a little, patting the horse’s velvety black nose. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to think I was gathering information to use against you in the next race.”

“That is the furthest thing from my mind. Go on, ride her and see how she handles.” Don Miguel patted Diego’s back encouragingly.

Diego looked between Don Miguel and Alejandro before finally giving in. Alejandro could see his son _really_ wanted to ride the beautiful horse. Diego may have discarded almost all of his childhood enjoyments: fencing, roping, wrestling and other manly sports. Still, Diego hadn’t lost his love for horses and that gave Alejandro hope that the son he knew was still in there somewhere.

A moment later Noche Estrellada was saddled and Diego rode her from the stables sitting tall and straight in the saddle. Following him to the paddock Don Miguel and Alejandro leaned on the fence and watched as the young man exercised the mare.

“Your son rides well,” remarked Don Miguel, nodding at horse and rider. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him participate in any of the races, you should make him race your Princesa, it would make the race all the more interesting.”

“Nothing would please me more than to see Diego ride Princesa in a race. I have asked him before but he always declines, claiming that he’s not a good enough rider, which as you can see, is complete nonsense.”

Diego urged the mare from a walk to a trot, picking up speed as he circled the paddock. He sat in the saddle as only a true caballero could. Alejandro swelled with pride as he watched his son, Diego really did look good out there.

“Your son is a fine young man, Alejandro. It’s a pity he doesn’t go in for some of the more martial activities. It seems that such a physique is wasted on a man who only reads all day and drinks all night.”

Alejandro knew the words were meant without animosity, but he bristled all the same. “While Diego may not occupy himself with senseless violence as a form of entertainment he does a lot more than read poetry and drink.” Which was true, Diego helped him a lot with the running of the _rancho_ , he had been in Los Angeles for less than a year, but was already taking on more and more responsibility for various aspects of the business side of things.

“I meant no offense, Alejandro, more young men could stand to be like your son.” Don Miguel patted Alejandro’s arm reassuringly. “Diego is a good boy and even if he isn’t the most active young man. His even temper and friendliness make him a fine companion. I suppose the proverb is true, God doesn’t give with both hands.”

Alejandro pursed his lips, a little annoyed with Don Miguel, but he also felt a little sad. His disappointments with Diego were his own. Disappointments that were about _his_ expectations of Diego and _his_ plan for Diego’s life. Secretly, he knew his high expectations for his son were unfair. Diego could never live up to his desires. But that was between him, as Diego’s father, and Diego. For a man like Don Miguel to consider Diego’s less-than-active leanings as a character defect, well it made him sad to think that his son might never get the respect he deserved.

Again, Diego urged Noche Estrellada faster, taking her from a trot to a canter.

Watching Diego ride the black steed stirred in Alejandro a vague memory. He couldn’t quite place it but there was something more than a little familiar about it.

Finally, Diego kicked the horse into a gallop, testing the racehorse’s top speed. Horse and rider worked together seamlessly creating an illusion of one purely fluid movement. A moment later Diego was slowing Noche Estrellada again, not wanting to exhaust her. As Diego brought the horse to a walk once more he adjusted his black hat to sit more squarely on his head. His face dark with shadow from the bright midday sun he turned the black mare towards the fence where Alejandro and Don Miguel were standing.

Alejandro felt a chill race down his spine. The figure Diego cut on the black horse was striking – and familiar. _Certainly not!_ Alejandro mentally cut in before the thought could even form, _Such a thing is ludicrous_.

Diego leaned over the mare’s neck and patted it affectionately. “She is an exquisite horse, Don Miguel, I think Princesa has some real competition here.”

“Kind words, Diego, thank you,” said Don Miguel.

Diego made to dismount and as he was stepping from the stirrup Alejandro saw him wince, his left arm slipping from the saddle causing him hit the ground with a slightly awkward stumble. Smiling a little bashfully he regained his balance. “See, her splendid gait has left me unbalanced here on earth.”

Don Miguel and Alejandro chuckled and they followed Diego as he led the mare back to the stables. On the drive back to their hacienda Alejandro nudged Diego. “The way you handled that racehorse, Diego, I have to say I’m impressed.”

Diego smiled modestly. “It’s easy to look like a good horseman when you have an animal of that quality.”

“All the same,” Alejandro said, patting Diego’s arm, “you’re a natural in the sad– Diego! You’re bleeding!” Alejandro seized his son’s left arm. “Stop the carriage.”

One-handed, Diego pulled the mules to a halt. “Father, it’s-”

“Explain yourself, what have you been doing?” Alejandro said, gesturing at Diego’s red stained jacket sleeve. “Do you need a doctor?”

“Father, you worry too much.” Diego was trying to sound casual, but Alejandro wasn’t fooled. “I cut myself by accident and I guess I opened the scratch again when I dismounted Don Miguel’s horse.”

“Cut yourself? When? How?” Alejandro looked at the sleeve again, the cut must be pretty severe to bleed through a bandage, a shirt _and_ a jacket. “Give me the reins and explain yourself.”

Alejandro listened and drove as Diego put pressure on his arm and tried to dance around the truth.

“It’s really nothing, Father,” said Diego, “it was just yesterday when I was...” Diego seemed to look around for inspiration, “well, when I was shaving. You know how clumsy I am.”

Alejandro knew no such thing. His son was exceptionally poised and graceful.

“Anyway,” Diego continued, “I dropped my razor and it fell on my arm, cutting me.”

“We are going to Doctor Avila immediately,” Alejandro said. “A cut that bleeds that much is not something to sniff at.”

“I don’t know that we need to bother Doctor Avila,” said Diego.

However, he didn’t argue too strongly. Alejandro was concerned, not only about the injury, but about how his son had gotten it. Diego’s story was a childish lie, one which might distract any other person in the pueblo, but Alejandro didn’t believe it for an instant. He wondered if there were other injuries Diego had hidden from him. He also wondered what he had done to engender this distrust from his son. Why wasn’t Diego telling him the truth? Slapping the reins, Alejandro urged the mules faster, hoping Doctor Avila was in town.


	5. ACCEPTANCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, Episodes 26, 39 – Adios, Señor Magistrado/The Eagle’s Flight

Alejandro entered the gate to his hacienda. “Diego,” he called out, unsure where his son would appear from. “Diego,” he called again, looking from the mezzanine to the door that led to the house. “Diego,” he said one last time, heading towards the door.

“Here I am, Father.” Diego appeared on the mezzanine, standing outside his room door his hands in the pockets of his housecoat.

“There you are! I have the most fantastic tale to tell you.” Alejandro strode to the bottom of the stairs to meet Diego as he came down. “The meeting at the tavern had a most unexpected conclusion. Come into the _sala_ , I want to tell you about it.”

Diego followed him into the _sala_ where Alejandro shed his cloak and hat in the chair by the door. “I would not believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes. Do you remember that soldier, Figueroa, who was accused of poisoning the prisoners?”

Diego nodded and took a seat in one of the armchairs. “I remember. Didn’t he escape from the _cuartel_ yesterday? Did they find him?”

Alejandro also sat, facing his son. “After a fashion. At the meeting the _magistrado_ was just accusing the _comandante_ of conspiracy to sow disorder in Los Angeles when Figueroa showed up, at the point of Zorro’s sword.”

Diego raised his eyebrows a little. “Oh? And did he or Zorro have anything to say about the accusations against the _comandante_?”

“Figueroa was about to give testimony against the _magistrado_ and he had just said the _m_ _agistrado_ was responsible for the crime in Los Angeles when the _magistrado_ took a pistol and shot Figueroa dead!”

Diego sat forward, his face the picture of concern. “Well, what happened, Father? Is the _magistrado_ in jail?”

Alejandro analyzed his son’s concern for a long moment before continuing his story. “I’m afraid not. Not only were the landowners at this meeting, but also a lot of other men who turned out to be the _magistrado’s_ men. After killing Figueroa he tried to make an escape but myself and some of the other dons stopped him. Then, Zorro and the _comandante_ began fighting and in the confusion one of the _magistrado’s_ men turned on him and stabbed him before we could do anything to stop him.”

Alejandro was itching to get up and pace around while he told this story. The entire event had put him on edge in a way he hadn’t expected. Not only had the highest level of their local government proved to be dangerously corrupt, Zorro had also come precious close to losing his freedom once and for all. However, he stayed put in his chair, he wanted to watch Diego’s face closely as he told him this story.

“So the _magistrado_ is dead.” Diego leaned back in his chair, his voice carrying a tone of finality.

“I’m afraid so,” Alejandro said, “as are several others who were caught up in his schemes.”

Diego looked thoughtful for a moment. He seemed to be reflecting on the information Alejandro had just relayed. Looking back up at him Diego seemed to remember the conversation again. “And Zorro? What happened to him?”

Alejandro noticed that Diego didn’t comment on the phrase _“_ _Then, Zorro and the comandante began fightin_ _g,_ ” which Alejandro had worded that way specifically to see how Diego would respond to it. “ After giving the _comandante_ his sword Zorro found himself unarmed and at the _comandante’s_ mercy.”

“Really?” said Diego, “That seems very foolish of him.”

“It was,” said Alejandro. “He is lucky that the _comandante_ is an honorable man. The _comandante_ gave Zorro back his sword and allowed him to escape.”

“An honorable man indeed to extend such courtesy to an outlaw.” Diego leaned back in his chair again.

Alejandro was studying his son’s face. Honestly, Diego was remarkably calm for just hearing the _magistrado_ of the pueblo had been killed. Diego’s expressions weren’t _telling_ him anything, but the not telling was, in and of itself, telling.

“Is that all?” Diego said, his tone one of passive disinterest.

“Don’t you think that’s quite enough for one night? Our king’s magistrate murdered a man in cold blood and was then killed at a community meeting. Our _comandante_ and the most wanted outlaw in all of California were fighting side by side against cronies of the _magistrado_. The same _comandante_ then proceeded to let the outlaw flee when he had every opportunity and every right to arrest him, and you ask ‘is that all’?”

Diego gave a defeated shrug. “I suppose when you put it like that there was more than enough excitement to last the pueblo for a year. Maybe now our town can have a little peace and quiet. I’m glad you were not hurt, and that Zorro got away.”

“Me too,” said Alejandro.

* * *

Alejandro watched as Diego, guarded by two armed men, climbed the stairs out of the cellar. Varga, satisfied that he had everything he wanted, left as well. Alone once again with Sergeant Garcia and Bernardo, Alejandro took a seat on the steps. He didn’t know what Diego was up to, but he sensed his son had some sort of plan. Whatever it was, Alejandro trusted it would be something clever.

Bernardo and Sergeant Garcia sat down as well.

“What do we do now?” said Garcia.

“Wait for a chance,” said Alejandro. Sighing, he rested his chin on his hand. He thought something like this would happen, there had been hints of growing unrest for a while now and an armed rebellion was hardly a surprise.

Garcia scratched his chin thoughtfully. “What do you think Don Diego is doing right now?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Which wasn’t strictly true, he did want to think about it, he just didn’t want to _talk_ about it with Sergeant Garcia. His mind was racing through the possibilities. Diego could be doing just as he said, and getting the list of dons for Varga. Alejandro discounted that as a possibility immediately. Diego would never do such a thing. The other possibilities were the ones that worried him. If Diego attempted to escape, or to prevent Varga’s men from getting the list he could be harmed – or killed. And even if he managed to escape, what would he do then? What would be his next move?

“Zorro is late, I hope he comes to rescue us soon,” Garcia pondered aloud.

Alejandro tried to suppress an irritated sigh. Sergeant Garcia was a good man, but sometimes he could really annoy. Still, Garcia’s faith in Zorro might not be entirely misplaced. Part of Alejandro was depending on him too.

“I suppose that rascal of a fox will come when we least expect him, that is how he usually does it.” Garcia twisted the ends of his mustache thoughtfully. “I just wonder how he will fight all those men at once.”

That really was the question. Diego was now outside of the cellar, which was certainly better than being inside of it, but what could he possibly do against Varga’s army? If he managed to escape his captors without being shot or killed, coming back to the pueblo wasn’t an option. One man against so many would certainly not survive.

The minutes ticked away. Alejandro wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed. He was growing more apprehensive. Diego had been gone for too long. Yes, the fate of Los Angeles and all of California worried him, but Diego worried him more. What if the last thing he had said to his son was accuse him of cowardice. What if he never saw his son again. Resolutely he promised himself that he would tell Diego how proud of him he was the next time he saw him, if he ever saw him again. Maybe his son didn’t always do what he wanted, or act how Alejandro wished he would, but his love for his son never wavered. Through all his disappointment and anger he had never stopped being proud of the man Diego was. Alejandro realized now that he needed to say it more.

Commotion on the floor above caused the three of them to look up at the ceiling. Then, a second later the cellar door was thrown open and a familiar voice called out, “Sergeant Garcia! Don Alejandro!”

The three men scrambled to their feet and raced up the stairs.

* * *

That evening the tavern was crowded as close to every person in the pueblo came out to celebrate victory over the would-be revolutionaries. Alejandro hadn’t seen the town this joyous in a long time. Most of all, however, Alejandro was happy to see his son. He watched Diego all night long as he swapped stories with the other dons about the events of the day. Diego demurred about any active role in the events and stated multiple times that he had only ridden to alert the other dons, then he would turn the conversation away from himself and ask after the actions of the other man. Of course the dons were perfectly happy to oblige and recount the tale of how they saved California.

It was true, of course, that Los Angeles had ultimately been saved by the action of the citizen’s army, but things may have gone differently if the rebellion hadn’t been contained in the plaza until the army could arrive. Alejandro didn’t want to pat himself on the back too much, but he recognized how important those crucial minutes were when he, Garcia and Bernardo had held the front until the dons arrived. And Zorro. Zorro had been there too, running interference and keeping the rebels from overwhelming their location. Zorro had freed them in the first place. Though every man had done his part to defend their homes, Zorro had done the most. Zorro was the real hero that day.

Standing, Alejandro raised his glass. “I would like to propose a toast!”

A round of cheers went up. Many toasts had been proposed that night, and many more were sure to come.

“On this day Los Angeles has been delivered from a great foe by it’s truest friend.” Alejandro looked around the room, spotting Diego in the corner with Sergeant Garcia.

Another round of cheers.

“Through his bravery he has given us back our homes, our freedom, and our very lives.” Alejandro studied Diego’s face. He looked relaxed, smiling and happy.

More cheers followed.

“Tonight, I propose a toast to the greatest man in all of California, to Zorro!”

“To Zorro!” echoed the tavern as soldier, don and peon alike all raised their cups in honor of the masked bandit.

Taking a drink he noted the look Diego and Bernardo exchanged before they each drank their toast. _Yes_ , thought Alejandro, _t_ _o Zorro_ , he repeated mentally as he took another sip. _M_ _y son_ _the Fox_.

_Fin_


End file.
